The Language of Flowers
by Stanzaar
Summary: Because Fuji would always follow Tezuka, no matter how distressing it could be, without any question.


"_Why do you look so sad?"_

-xxx-

**Fuji's POV**

It was the usual routine I did every single day. I would wait for Tezuka to finish up and we would go home together. Every Thursday though, we would have a little detour and drop by a flower shop near the bus stop. Tezuka would come inside the shop and buy a pot of Sagiso or what was known as White Egret Flower while I waited outside. It was winter then, so I was a bit cold. For some sort of reason, I felt a little strange to be in the shop. There was this tinge of frustration every time I went in with Tezuka. So, I chose to wait outside despite the odd look Tezuka gave. I didn't even know why I felt that way. It was very weird, indeed.

After he was done, we would head to the bus stop and wait for the bus to arrive. We would do some small talk while we wait. There was this one time when I asked him about his choice of flower. Tezuka decided to keep his silence, ignoring my curious eyes. But I noticed the slight tint of pink that surfaced on his face. Well, it pretty much answered the question you will soon understand.

When the bus arrived, we would ride on it and keep quiet. Both of us enjoyed the view—no matter how many times we'd seen it—and we both came to a silent agreement to keep the silence every time we rode on a bus. I would occasionally take a glance at the flower on his hands. I always pondered as to why he—or _that _person chose that particular flower. While it was pretty, to me, it didn't hold any special attraction. People's taste differed, I guessed.

After we arrived at our stop, we would walk a few couple meters and reached our destination at last. We had been there so many times that the white building didn't seem very odd to me any longer. Hospital used to be a scary place, and now, it was still scary. But it didn't feel as odd.

Tezuka would clutch the pot in his hands so tightly that it might really break at any moment. He would always do that. Tezuka, I thought, seemed to hate the hospital so very badly.

-xxx-

I knew the usual procedure. Tezuka would lean by the wall beside the door, and I would take the pot of Sagiso from his hands. I always took a glimpse at Tezuka's void eyes before I open the door, revealing a white hospital bed with a frail unconscious girl lying on it.

She was Tezuka's cousin, someone who held Tezuka's heart with her—literally—closed eyes. Tezuka never dared to go inside and see the girl himself. He always blamed himself for the state she was in. And to me, it didn't make _any _sense.

Tezuka didn't make any sense that it frustrated me. And yet, I was torn to just cut those tubes that carried her life.

Some great friend I was.

-xxx-

I had once visited her by myself. I brought the usual flower as Tezuka's. It might be her favorite flower that Tezuka was so keen on bringing it every single time. That might be the reason why I never felt comfortable going inside the flower shop with Tezuka. I felt envious. Tezuka always softened his expression whenever he bought the flower. I couldn't stand to see that. I was _jealous_.

And that day, I came to confront my feelings. But, what do you hope from an immobile girl like her? Of course, she couldn't answer my question. I didn't even _need _her to answer my question. I had already decided. I only needed the push to do so. And yet, my only drive laid unconscious.

I was there, waiting her to open her eyes. But if she did open her eyes, then my entire conviction would mean nothing. My sleepless nights would mean nothing. Nothing, nothing, and _nothing_.

And all surges of emotions came into me. I wanted to cry out my feelings, I wanted to run away, I wanted her to give me the answer, and I wanted _him _to understand. I wanted to strangle her and sent her to the pit of hell.

How could you be so attached to this, _this_ unmoving being? How could I possibly give you up to _this_ pale thing? How could she provide you happiness more than I could? Just how.

Life was not fair. I had heard that thousands of times. I agreed, and I could never be more right.

In spite of everything, that one miraculous tear from her eye evaporated every bit of negative emotions. It wasn't fair. Did she bother to spare that tear for me to make the right decision? She actually did.

Or was it something else?

-xxx-

Once again, I had the second confrontation of my life. I confronted Tezuka.

I called his name one time, and yet he didn't budge. I called his name the second time, and he only rustled his hair without acknowledging my presence. And I shook his shoulder, "Tezuka."

"Fuji."

Although he looked quite irritated, he realized I was there at least. Tezuka had been more and more restless these days. He was definitely agitated. I could not comprehend the reason why. If it was the girl, he should be used to it already. I didn't understand. But, if the words I was about to utter may soothe him in some way, then I was honored.

"You should see her."

And Tezuka made that face he always made when he waited outside her room. His eyes were void of any emotions. He didn't feel anything. He was drained. And I could not take it any longer.

"You should really go see her, Tezuka."

He made a bitter smile, so painful that I was more eager to lift him up from his agony. I have told myself that it was _that _girl's fault. Your world crumbled because of her. It was more ironic that by saying that, I admitted that your world was _she_.

"What are you talking about Fu—?"

"I'm saying that you should go see her. You should see her _directly_."

He averted his gaze from me, but I kept still. I wanted to see the change of emotions in his eyes. I never, _ever_ understood the reason why Tezuka was so afraid of seeing her. He had no reason to be. He absolutely didn't.

"You should know why, Fuji."

"I don't. I don't know why."

"Well," he slouched down, trying to cover himself under my stare. But you couldn't Tezuka. I never understood the way of your mind. "I don't have any rights to be there."

I once again was angered. I didn't—never thought he would come up with an excuse such as _that_. If the situation wasn't as intense, I might laugh to his face just so he could be humiliated. He deserved to be.

"You have _every _rights to be there, Tezuka."

"I don't. It is my fault."

"Wh—How could it be _your _fault?" I said sardonically. He blamed himself too much. He should have blamed himself for being so foolish. "_You_'re the only one who thinks it's your fault."

Tezuka made an exasperated sigh. He was tired, I could see. But I am even _more _tired. You had _no _rights to sigh like that. These days, I had this sudden urge to just strangle people and leave them dead.

"It's not that simple."

"But it is!" I cried finally, unable to contain my emotions any longer. And more than that, I, Fuji Shuusuke, had lost my patience. "What will she think when she wake up only to find out that you didn't have the nerve to face her even _once_. You're only protecting yourself, Tezuka. All of this is only for your sake! You shamefully ran—"

"Because I am!"

I witnessed, to some, the greatest, and the rest, the most shameful moment of Tezuka Kunimitu. He was vulnerable. He looked so weak. He let his guard down. And in the midst of anger, I slipped a faint victorious smile.

I knew the correct button to press. After all, Tezuka was actually simple-minded, no matter how confusing he could get.

"So, you admit yourself as a _weak selfish _bastard?"

And Tezuka didn't say a thing about that. His pride was too high to admit such a thing. He succumbed to me in the end. He would visit her _properly_ this time.

After that realization, I killed her again in my mind.

-xxx-

It was Thursday. I did the usual routine I had always done. Waited for Tezuka, walked to the flower shop and waited for Tezuka again. I still didn't have the heart to go inside despite all those speech I made the other day.

To my surprise, Tezuka came out with a basket full of Sweet Pea flowers. I wondered so hard as to why he bought that flower. What did Tezuka intend to do?

But he smiled—the most sincere smile I had ever seen him have, so I didn't question anything. I went along, and we went to the bus stop. Waiting, again. My life was full of waiting.

-xxx-

To me, nothing really changed. It was the same white building that reeked of antibiotics. To Tezuka, everything changed. He was anxious, I could tell. His grip on the basket was the hradest one I had ever seen so far. He must be _that _anxious.

But I took the pleasure of seeing it. After what I had done, I deserved a little entertainment.

A nervous Tezuka didn't look half bad. A sweating Tezuka _never _looked bad.

-xxx-

We arrived in front of the door. I almost took the basket of flowers from his hands out of habits. _Almost_. It would seem like I wasn't very keen on letting him go. Well, in truth, I didn't.

Tezuka stood there for the longest time ever. He wasn't ready, but he _had _to. And I gestured him to go on, and he grabbed my arm despite my refusal. Honestly? I was glad. At least, I was sure that he wouldn't kiss her inside without my knowledge—if he still had the decency. But Tezuka was Tezuka. So he wouldn't, with or without me.

But, didn't they say that love blinds you? It still worried me, even if it was Tezuka.

He was certainly blind.

-xxx-

Tezuka once again stood there beside the bed like he was before in front of the door. Besides placing the basket of Sweet Peas on the table, he did nothing. He stood still. And I watched everything so very clearly from the corner, trying to overwhelm the pain with amusement.

Tezuka was stiff. But that level of stiffness was on a whole different level. It bounded to be so utterly amusing, and yet, I didn't laugh. I didn't even have the heart to.

I watched him carefully, handling my almost crumbled heart with the utmost care. He stood there. He didn't move. But, he stared her with _those _eyes I saw when he bought the flowers, just with a much higher intensity.

But seeing him like that was very funny, I said to my self. It was funny, funny, funny, funny and very funny that I wanted to laugh my arse off. It was funny, funny, funny, funny. It began to become a chant. Funny, funny, and funny. Tezuka, you were very funny.

I couldn't bring myself to kill her in my mind like I usually did for distraction. And so, I told myself again: Tezuka, you are very, very funny.

Tezuka, I wanted to strangle you instead.

-xxx-

Everything happened in a split of second that it seemed like nothing actually happened. Tezuka went to pick a flower from the basket. He probably wanted to show her the flower up close. And he smiled. It was, the most loving smile a person could ever have. It was strange how the loveliest smile I had ever seen was something that came from Tezuka. I just didn't expect that.

Seeing Tezuka smile itself was an oddity.

And it happened. That zigzag thing on the screen went straight. There was a loud screeching beep from the machine. Doctors and nurses rushed toward the room. They panic. I panic. Tezuka panic. It happened too fast. One of the nurses told us to go outside. But we were too stunned to move.

I looked at Tezuka. His smile faltered.

He dropped the red Sweet Pea.

Everything went blur.

Nothing else mattered.

-xxx-

I have considered the possibility of her being dead, as I had murdered her in my mind countlessly. But I never, _ever_ knew what to do if it actually happened. I didn't know how I would feel. I most certainly didn't know how Tezuka would feel.

And it hit me hard when I see his face.

He was wearing a black suit. Eyes devoid from any emotions. Face was crumpled as how my shirt would be. He didn't look sad. He _didn't _show any emotion. And I know it was worse. Tezuka looked awful.

He was _that _awful that the fact he was wearing a suit didn't bother me.

And I understood this feeling he must had before.

The sadness. The hopelessness. The anxiety. The rage. The fury. The anguish.

The guilt.

It came into one. Nothing was my fault. I actually did them a favor. And yet, I was tormented by this guilt.

And I looked to his face once more.

He needed a friend right now.

He didn't need any affectionate feelings.

He didn't.

And I was his friend.

Nothing more.

-xxx-

I had always wondered if I actually did the right thing. Was her tear back then really told me to do what I had done? Or was it the other possibility I had considered?

Was it the _something else?_

Could her tear mean her imminent demise? Was she trying to tell me she was going to die?

But it didn't answer my question. Did I do the right thing?

Seeing Tezuka's smile, it probably was, no matter how wrong it could get.

-xxx-

It has been three years since then. I am now a senior high school student preparing for college, along with the others and once again, Tezuka. It should have hurt how we are so inseparable knowing that I definitely have no chance, but it doesn't. I always wonder about that, like I always wonder about some other things.

"Tezuka," I call under the shiver of my breath. Winter have always been unnerving, really, really unnerving to both Tezuka and me. And it seems, we have somehow gotten pass over it, so I dare to bring up the topic. "Remember how you bought her Sweet Pea?" he nods, and I continue, "Why did you choose that flower? Do you know that her death is coming?"

Tezuka eye me strangely, seeming unsure of what I said, "What do you mean, Fuji?"

"Sweet Pea means 'goodbye' in hanakotoba."

He then chuckle bitterly that I almost regret to bring up the topic (and forget that Tezuka doesn't chuckle), but he assures me with a tap on my shoulder as he regained his composure back, "It was her favorite flower. I never thought it actually means 'goodbye'. It almost seems like fate."

"Thank you, Fuji."

I do not expect that, at all—both his thank you and her favorite flower. "I thought that Sagiso was her favorite flower," and I realize once again that he just thanked me, "and, it's a pleasure."

(I am assured that I really made the right decision. He thanked me. He was grateful. He was happy. And that is enough.)

"No, Sagiso wasn't her favorite flower."

"Why did you bring it every time we went to visit her, then?"

And I notice that shade of pink that rise up his face, the same pink like the time I asked him about the flower. It really makes me curious. What can the flower meant to make him flush—no matter how slight it is—like that?

He sighed as a smile curl up his lips. Tezuka, I realize, has been smiling more frequently. No matter how many times he smiles, it always creeps a smile up my face also (and shocks me, really).

"Sagiso means 'my thoughts will follow you into your dreams' in hanakotoba."

When he says that, I know that a problem has just arose. Can I really move on, knowing how sweet he can be? Probably not.

Good luck, me, for the torturous future ahead.

* * *

A/N: I had this sudden urge to write about flowers and hospital. For your information, the western language of flowers and the Japanese one (hanakotoba) is quite different, I think. In this story, I used the hanakotoba. And, does Fuji seem a bit OOC? Well, I need a character as a medium of my pouring thoughts, and Fuji clicked. Don't hate me for making him a bit off. Suggestions?


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